


Never Alone

by TheycallmeGabriel



Series: Guardians [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, Guardian Angel Castiel, Guardian Angel Gabriel, M/M, Mentions of War, Series, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheycallmeGabriel/pseuds/TheycallmeGabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam still remembers what Gabriel had looked like when they first met, but he doesn't remember when he first noticed Gabriel's dimples, or the splash of barely-there freckles across the Archangel's cheeks. Or the way Gabriel's eyes caught fire when he was angry, or twinkled when he was excited, or flickered when he was nervous. He doesn't remember when he found out that Gabriel's favorite Disney princess was Ariel because he longed for the chance to be something different, and he doesn't remember when he figured out that Gabriel had a talent for painting and a love for singing.<br/>Sam still remembers when he first set eyes on God's messenger, but he can't pinpoint the exact moment he'd fallen in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles. 
> 
> Anywho, some bits of this were inspired by Fantismal's [A History of Heaven and Its Angels, as Understood by the Archangel Gabriel ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/999466)
> 
> It's a great read, and highly recommended.

          Everything in Sam's life had finally fallen into place when Gabriel had shown up.

 

          The day had been regular enough, as far as Sam could remember, when he'd shown up with a rustle of wings. Sam had been on his way back to the kitchen from the living room, as a matter of fact. He still remembers what Gabriel had looked like, back then. _Angelic_. Downy waves of brunette hair, unusually bright irises the color of aged whisky, and, of course, a white robe.  
Could've been a toga. No one can know for certain.  
The bands and bangles of gold were strewn across the Archangel's arms that day, twinkling with every movement. The piece of resistance, however, had been Gabriel's wings. The feathers themselves were velvety, wind-tousled things larger than Sam's hands. Dawn had kissed each feather, leaving behind hues fit for a flame. Reds, oranges, and yellows hugged the delicate plumes tightly, promising that even in rain or shine, their fire wouldn't extinguish.

          Sam had been awestruck, that day. Gabriel had practically been the poster child for angels everywhere.

          Until he'd opened his mouth.  
          Sam was prepared for just about anything. _"Your time has come Sam"_ , _"Heaven has a job for you, Samuel"_ , _"I'm here to talk about your faith"_ , _"Your brother is worrying us"_ , _"You're Satan's favorite outfit"_. _Any_ thing.  
Except for the nine, _beautifully_ spoken words that _had_ come out of the Archangel Gabriel's mouth on the sixth of September in 2005.

          "Jesus kid, what the _hell_ are they _feeding_ you?"

          Sam could've done without that curve ball, thank you very much, as the next ten minuets had been spent in silence, Sam looking as if he were a landed fish, and Gabriel looking positively _bored_ and _judgmental_.  
Sam felt like he was thrown into some shitty sitcom.  
Gabriel felt like he really should've stayed home that day.

         Why Heaven felt the need to pin God's messenger on temporary 'guardian' duty, neither of them knew.

           Since that day, however, the two have been as thick as thieves. Gabriel learned that Sam's favorite author is Neil Gaiman. Sam learned that Gabriel enjoys whipped cream with some pumpkin pie beneath it. And as their friendship escalated, Gabriel learned that Sam blamed himself for his mother's death, and in return, Sam learned about Gabriel having to return to his choir littered with bruises and spattered with blood that had been no one's but his when he got caught in Michael and Lucifer's ( ** _The_** _Michael and Lucifer's_ ) crossfire.  
          Gabriel got a haircut and a new wardrobe, courtesy of Sam. Sam had gotten an angel to help with his homework (help, of course, meaning Gabriel throwing pretzels at Sam from across the room for not paying enough attention to him).  
         

          Years passed until Sam had met another angel.  
One of Gabriel's dominions, Castiel.  
It'd been odd at first, meeting another angel that was so unlike Gabriel. But in time, the three had grown closer than Sam had been with his own brother in years.  
Until one day Dean had shown up with the news of their father's death. Dean stuck around, and in time, the four of them had become an odd, dysfunctional family (with Dean and Cas occasionally fucking, maybe, probably, definitely. Yeah, definitely).

          Sam still remembers what Gabriel had looked like when they first met, but he doesn't remember when he first noticed Gabriel's dimples, or the splash of barely-there freckles across the Archangel's cheeks. Or the way Gabriel's eyes caught fire when he was angry, or twinkled when he was excited, or flickered when he was nervous. He doesn't remember when he found out that Gabriel's favorite Disney princess was Ariel because he longed for the chance to be something different, and he doesn't remember when he figured out that Gabriel had a talent for painting and a love for singing.

          Sam still remembers when he first set eyes on God's messenger, but he can't pinpoint the exact moment he'd fallen in love with him.  
The dawning realization hit like freight train, barreling through the Stanford student, heedless of any damage it may cause. And Sam let it hit, without so much as shielding himself with his arms.

                                                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~

          "Yo, Sambo- You gonna just sit there makin' eye sex with the walls, or are ya gonna hand me the remote?"

Sam straightened, head subconsciously turning towards the other's voice before giving a rather classy "What?"  
  
"The _remote_ , Sugarplum. Ya know, 'bout this big-" A small box had been created with the _Archangel's_ fingers- "-With little buttons on it? Ya know, the _only_ thing keeping me from watchin' Downtown Abbey, the thing _in your hand?_ "  
Sure, Gabriel could've probably changed the channel with the power of his mind alone, but where would the fun be in that?

"Oh. Yeah. Right." The younger Winchester tossed the remote to Gabriel, giving a stern clear of his throat. "Hey kiddo, you feelin' alright?" The amused gleam vanished from golden irises, filling with a constrained concern.

          Before Sam could open his mouth, Dean strut to the kitchen, smelling of oil and sweat with a disgruntled looking Castiel hot on his heels.  
"Trouble in paradise?" Gabriel leaned over the couch, ignoring Dean's obvious glare of irritation. "You look a little flustered there, Dean-o." Dean's face had grown a darker shade of red, flipping Gabriel the bird with a glare that could level cities. "Shuddup." Came Dean's glorious retort, opting to disappear into the house with a beer in one hand and a slice of (Gabriel's) pie in the other.

"What crawled up your ass?" Sam shouted to his brother, eyes falling on the dark haired angel who seemed to be imitating constipation, or, to Gabriel's glee, a confused little puppy. Gabriel cooed.  
"Dean refuses to ask my question." Cas grumbled, primly sitting beside the much formal angel lounged in the love seat.  
"Sorry, Cas. What's your question?" Sam asked patiently, perching on the edge of the couch. With a gentle prod from Gabriel, Castiel was sitting up quickly, back as straight as a board. A look of smug satisfaction blinked onto Cas's face for a brief moment, leaving a reminder to Sam to not let Gabriel be a too much of a bad influence on Castiel. 

"I wish to know what this so called-- ' _Handy-J_ ' is."

The look on Gabriel's face was beyond cosmic, and for the next twenty minuets, the two of them were in hysterics on the couch. Castiel put on his 'serious face', slapping a hand over his brother's mouth for silence. Gabriel, not quite enjoying the whole- being silenced thing retaliated by coating the other angel's hand in saliva, to which Castiel withdrew his hand to stare at momentarily, eyes shifting to the fellow angel before wiping his hand across Gabriel's face. The noise Gabriel made was anything _but_ human.  
A downright  **regretful** noise. ( _He really shouldn't have taught Cas to do it in the first place._ )  
Castiel looked disgruntled once more. Dean came down for a second piece of pie. Castiel narrowed his lazer-sights onto Dean Winchester. Dean retreated. Castiel was in pursuit. No pie had been retrieved.  
Sam learned that he truly loved Gabriel's laughter.

                                                                                            ~~~~~~~~~~

          Dean Winchester and Gabriel were the same in many ways.

          They both ate like it was their last day alive, they both adored their younger siblings, and both avoided talking about their feelings like it physically hurt to do so.  
Sam recently begun to relate to that.

          They both knew that it was bound to happen eventually.  
Earth was never their home, and it would be selfish to ask them to stay, when Heaven needed them the most. Some civil war, 

It didn't matter. They were leaving. Castiel mentioned. Raphael was "pullin' a Lucifer", Gabriel added helpfully.  
To _war_ , nonetheless. An _angelic_ _war_.  
Where an enemy's weapons had the power to _permanently_ wipe their existence away like it was nothing. To wipe their friends- their _angels_  away.

They left on a Tuesday.

Dean was never good at talking about his feelings. He chose to speak in gestures.  
Sam was eternally grateful for that one luxury as his brother wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into a bone-crushing hug.  
It lasted for a while, neither having the energy or willpower to say anything. If they were a bit misty eyed by the end of it, well, there were no angels around to witness it anymore.

 

          Five years had flown by since their angels had departed.  
So much had happened in those five years. Sam fell in love, got engaged, and lost her in those five years.  
Arson, the police said.

         Jess's death only pushed Sam into his school work, and in no time at all, he was a college graduate. Sam was a mess. An absolute wreck. Blue eyes and wavy blonde locks haunted his dreams for two years, giving rest to the nightmares of golden curls splattered with blood and lifeless eyes of golden whisky.  
Dean dated an old high school flame for two of those five years. Lisa, was her name. She was beautiful, and totally Dean's type. She left him one evening, claiming that he was, quote: " _Psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on your brother_ ". They still remain friends, despite their falling out.

                                                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~

 

                                                                                            

#####  _Present_

 

          Sam shuffled his way into the living room, a cup of coffee clutched between his large hands. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, a testament of how little sleep Sam had been getting.  
His nightmares were only getting worse.  
The nightmares of Jess were dwindling with time, but the ones of Gabriel were escalating as time passed. Last night was one of the worse. Gabriel lay there in the bloodied grass of paradise, blood and grace spilling out of an open and festered wound.  
  
 _Castiel was slumped beside him, once magnificent wings now burned into the grass, his life force already drained days ago. Gabriel had been laying there for what felt like years, the life slowly trickling out of him. Sam was standing a few miles back, hazel eyes terrified and narrowed onto the two brothers. There were screams all around him, some of them his. Before Sam knew what he was doing, he was running. And running, and running, and **running.** No matter how far or how long he was running, the two angels only seemed to be farther away...._

          Sam woke up the moment the last, little bit of life had left Gabriel's eyes. He didn't go back to sleep.

          A shaky sigh spilled from Sam's lips, hands trembling slightly as he took a hesitant sip of the bitter liquid. The elder Winchester tried to convince Sam to see a psychiatrist since the nightmares started. He'd refused, not quite sure that a shrink would be a good idea.  
How was he supposed to explain his concern for his friends' safety? What would they do to him if he voiced his worry about his friends currently participating in a _Heavenly civil war_?  
Dean stopped pushing him.

          A crash yanked Sam from his haze, and Dean's muted yelp yanked him from his seat on the couch. The Stanford graduate could hear the sounds of a struggle from above in Dean's room.  
He snatched a candle holder from the table, prepared to storm up the stairs when another crash reached his ears, having come from the kitchen.  
Sam whipped his head from the kitchen door to the stairs, deciding that Dean's a big boy, and that he could handle himself. Sam crept through the darkness, candle holder held high in the air. Holding his breath, he slowly twisted the door knob, foot pushing the oak door open.  
His heart was pounding furiously as he saw a figure illuminated by the open fridge door, crouched on the floor as the stranger sifted through their food. He slowly placed one foot in front of the other until he reached the fridge. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment, and Sam took the time to swing the candle holder. Metal met skin as the intruder caught the Winchester's weapon. Sam gave a yelp, opting to throw punches instead. Each were blocked with a skillful hand, and it wasn't long until Sam was thrown to the kitchen floor, eyes clenched shut to brace for the pain from impact.  
Pain that didn't come. Huh.

          "Eaaaasy there, Samsonite. Wouldn't want 'cha to hurt yourself, now." _I know that voice_.

          Sam's eyelids flew open, shocked hazel meeting amused amber. "Gabriel-?" He croaked, trembling hands reaching out towards said Archangel, terrified that if they touch, Gabriel was going to disappear again. A weight suddenly lifted off of his shoulders, heart pounding violently in his chest.  
Gabriel stood up, hefting the (much taller) man with him. "It's good to see ya, kid." Gabriel's voice filled with warmth, but his smile had yet to reach his eyes. The clothes that Sam had bought Gabriel that first year hugged the messenger comfortably, still to this day. It all felt so surreal.  
Then it hit.  
 _  
This is real._ _This isn't a dream._

          The air was suddenly punched out of him, leaving his breathing shallow, heart swelling until it ached.  
 _  
He's here. He's safe._

"Look, kiddo, I'm sorry we were gone for so lo--" Sam's cut his friend off with a harsh hug, and if Gabriel was human, it would've probably squeezed the life out of him.

"Don't talk, just- Not right now. We can- We can talk later." The human was trembling around the other's waist, face buried into those caramel locks that he adored.  
It ripped the fight out of Gabriel, and with a relieved sigh, he returned the hug, happy to melt into Sam's broad chest. It wasn't until Sam's heart rate returned to normal that they've finally, albiet hesitantly, released one another. Sam's hands remained on Gabriel's shoulders, not yet wanting to let go.

And when Gabriel smiled at him again, it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one of a series in progress!  
> Thanks for readin'!  
> Love it? Hate it? Have anything you wanna see done in the series?  
> Gimme some feedback


End file.
